


You Know I Wish I Had It All

by ashleeforreal



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Fluff, M/M, OiHina - Freeform, Self-Indulgent, i actually enjoyed it tho, i am. destroyed, i torture him too much, ignorance, oihina monthly, oihina monthly november 2016, save hinata, stale bread, take him away from me, ughhghghghhhghghghh, wet towels, why does Hinata cry in every fic I write???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 09:18:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8483917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashleeforreal/pseuds/ashleeforreal
Summary: His joy at being so close to his most precious person inevitably overrode his concerns about the sudden and large shift in their day-to-day interactions, and in Oikawa’s rush to have him close also, he didn’t spare it much thought. Everything moved quickly, and suddenly they had a two bedroom apartment with only one receiving use, a second hand coffee machine, and matching socks. It was sickeningly sappy and domestic.The setter’s more...peculiar habits also began to make an appearance.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I am. t r a s h

As soon as Hinata had graduated and announced he was moving to Tokyo for college, Oikawa had demanded they get an apartment together. They still had all of winter break before either would need to worry about their actual classes, but Oikawa had always been a charmer, and talked his mom into letting him move out early under the guise of “settling in” and “getting used to city life.”

 

Hinata’s mother, of course, thought they were just friends, and very close ones at that. Hinata knew that he’d eventually need to drop the bomb that he and Oikawa had been dating since his second year in high school, but preferred to stick to the  _ you never asked, I never answered _ method instead.

 

It was exciting for both of them, and a big step in their relationship, but they’d been going strong for two years and had yet to have any huge problems or fights. Hinata wasn’t stupid, he knew constantly being in each other’s company would eventually lead to an actual fight, but he chose to look at the positive side instead - where he’d used to only see Tooru once a month during the school year, and spend every other weekend with him during breaks, now they would get to see each other every day.

 

His joy at being so close to his most precious person inevitably overrode his concerns about the sudden and large shift in their day-to-day interactions, and in Oikawa’s rush to have him close also, he didn’t spare it much thought. Everything moved quickly, and suddenly they had a two bedroom apartment with only one receiving use, a second hand coffee machine, and matching socks. It was  _ sickeningly _ sappy and domestic. It was everything Hinata had never known he’d wanted.

 

Oikawa was the same as he’d always been: teasing, haughty, but soft and kind at the least expected moment. His warm smiles and genuine gestures of affection were much more pronounced now that they were together most of the time, like the little note he’d leave Hinata on his phone if he woke up way earlier and made him breakfast, or the way he’d make Hinata’s coffee for him on lazy Sunday mornings.

 

But, alas, the sweeter sides of Oikawa were not all that he noticed. The setter’s more...peculiar habits also began to make an appearance.

 

The first thing was about three weeks into their shared living space. It had happened the first week, too, but Hinata had brushed it off and kept moving about his day, too caught up in the joy of being so close to his amazing boyfriend. However, the second time, he found himself getting slightly irritated as he stared down at the open bag of bread on the kitchen counter. Their apartment was a decent size, but the kitchen had always been slightly smaller in comparison to the other parts, and made the bread on the counter with the little metal tie next to it glaringly obvious.

 

Hinata had wondered why this happened, but left it alone, tied up the bread, and went on with his day. Only, it kept happening. Twice a week, at least. He was afraid their budget would collapse from all of their bread going stale all the time. This wasn’t cause for any real anger, though, only a growing agitation that sat at the edge of his mind.

 

The second quirk came in the form of towels -  _ wet towels _ , to be quite specific. Tooru was often in a flurry in the mornings when he had to work, and sometimes forgot exactly what was going on in his rush to kiss Shouyou goodbye and get out the door. On these mornings, Tooru’s clothes would manage to find their way into the hamper, but his towel did not. He’d toss it on the bed on his journey to the closet, and more often than not, it was on Hinata’s side of the bed.

 

It had always happened, this was recurring and constant, unlike the sporadically drying bread. The towel would sit there until Shouyou passed by and noticed it, usually a few hours later when he was also getting ready to leave and was on his way to their shared closet. By then, it had already saturated its chosen resting place, leaving a dark patch on their light blue comforter near the foot of the bed where Hinata preferred to sit while pulling his shoes on. It made the sheets smell sour, and if, by chance, the towel managed to steep the bed the whole day, there was a wet patch right about where Shouyou’s ankles rested.

 

Having damp feet at night is  _ torture _ .

 

Still, Shouyou keeps this to himself, preferring to offhandedly mention that it’s kind of gross but not demanding change. He hopes Oikawa will get the hint. (Oikawa does not.)

 

The last thing that pushes Hinata’s buttons is something Oikawa does often during their lazy Sundays: reading. Now, reading is not necessarily a bad thing, and Hinata finds the way Tooru has the push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose when they’re drooping down late at night endlessly endearing. The problem rested within the time and attention consumed by the action.

 

When Oikawa picked up a book, he was hard pressed to not put it down until he had finished it. It was cute at first, but after Hinata had almost set the kitchen on fire making dinner twice, not been able to get to the phone ringing right next to Tooru’s leg, and nearly broke his leg trying to screw in a lightbulb in their bathroom, and never received a proper response from his boyfriend, it was starting to eat at him. Occasionally he would get a distracted hum or “Be there in a second, Shou,” in reply, but the first one didn’t mean anything, and the second one was never fulfilled. Hinata had attempted yelling, crawling into Tooru’s lap, and outright standing in front of Oikawa and asking to have sex to get his attention, but it never got a reaction from the brunette man as he continued scanning whatever book he had that week.

 

Hinata held all of this in until a particular Sunday night. He’d had to go out and meet Kageyama to help him move into his new apartment a few miles away, and his roommate was horrible. The guy had constantly been picking at his height and strange hair every time Kageyama was out of earshot, and although he had mostly become immune to those kinds of comments, he’d had an exhausting week and hadn’t had the energy to fight back. He’d been hoping to come home, cuddle up to the love of his life on their couch, and receive some comfort and reassurance about his physical appearance.

 

When he walked in the door, Oikawa was in his usual spot for reading, the lamp next to the couch alight and his gaze focused on the thick volume propped up against the armrest. He’d barely even glanced up when Shoyou had greeted him tiredly, not even pausing to take in the look of distress on his short boyfriend’s face before flicking his eyes back to the book he’d become so absorbed in.

 

Hinata had stood there for a minute just watching Tooru to see if he’d maybe, for once, bookmark his page and try and see how he was doing.

 

Eventually the ginger gave up and headed to the bedroom to change into more comfortable clothes, trading the jeans for sweatpants and his button down for one of Tooru’s t-shirts. As he’d turned around to leave the room, a flash of white on their blue comforter caught his eye, closer to the head of the bed than usual.

 

Oh  _ hell  _ no.

 

There, right below where Shouyou’s head was supposed to be later that night, sat a wet towel in a dark splotch on the sheets. It had even partly dampened his pillow.

 

Hinata took some deep breaths, telling himself it was just the exhaustion of the week before and his horrific day making him this angry. He calmly picked up the towel and moved it to the hamper by the bathroom door, and closed the lid with a huff of air. Food would make him feel better. He just needed to eat something, and he’d feel better.

 

A minute later found Shouyou sitting in the kitchen floor, sobbing his eyes out with a bag of open bread lying on the ground from where he’d knocked it off the counter in front of him, contents spilling everywhere. The bread tie was somewhere -  _ who cares anyway, no one ever uses it _ \- and he was damn near screaming as he cried. Even with all of this, it took a full four minutes (Shouyou was counting) for Oikawa to slide around the corner in his socks, eyes going wide and glasses skidding lopsided on his nose as he took in the sight before him.

 

“Shou-chan? What’s wrong?” Oikawa asked worriedly, kneeling beside him and fluttering his hands around the distressed form before him with no idea what was going on.

 

The sobs quieted only long enough for Shouyou to grab the bread bag and start hitting his boyfriend’s arm with it. Tooru, startled, tried and failed to take it from Hinata’s hands, who was wielding the bread bag like some kind of deadly weapon with tear tracks going down his face and a trembling bottom lip.

 

“What did I do? Tell me so I can make it better, Shou-chan!” Oikawa pleaded desperately, and after receiving a smack to the face that knocked his glasses almost completely off by a plastic bag full of stale bread, “And please stop hitting me with bread and tell me what’s wrong!”

 

Hinata’s eyes were now puffy and glaring even as his small hands shaking on the scrunched up mouth of the bread bag, the image vaguely reminding Oikawa of a pissed off chihuahua with nowhere to direct its inner rage.

 

“Why do you never tie the bread back?” Hinata countered, almost falling over as he stumbled to his feet. He braced himself on the edge of the kitchen counter with an elbow, using his hands to pull out a piece of stale bread and fling it at Oikawa’s face. The setter was a million times more confused than when he had walked in.

 

“I always tie the bread! I hate stale bread!” Oikawa defended, forgetting for a moment that his boyfriend was in rare form and might tear his throat out for fighting back.

 

Hinata’s eyes narrowed. “No, you don’t tie it! I just go out and buy more bread before you get home so you don’t have to eat it!”

 

“Well at least I always flush the toilet! You forgot twice last week, Chibi-chan!” Tooru snapped back, reverting to the stupid nickname from high school as he always did when he was angry, unaware of the torture Hinata had gone through that day. It was childish, and Shouyou had actually only forgotten to flush once two weeks ago. Immediately, Hinata deflated and dropped the bread back on the ground, slowly sliding down the cabinets with his hands on his face to sit down as he started crying again at the nickname.

 

There was a moment of silence before Oikawa realized there was more than just stale bread causing the episode, and he began to apologize, only to be cut off by Hinata.

 

“No, you don’t have to be sorry, I just- I’m sorry I’m so short, and I had a rough week and Tobio’s roommate is a demon and you didn’t listen and the towel,  _ god _ , the towel, and, and-” Hinata murmured into his hands, stopping when Tooru knelt down in front of him and pulled his hands away and kissed him on the cheek.

 

“Hey, I’m sorry, I’ll listen. I’m listening. Tell me what’s wrong, Shou-chan.” Oikawa demanded, pulling his tiny boyfriend up by the wrists and leading him to the couch so they could snuggle up together while he comforted him.

 

Later, when Shouyou was cocooned in a blanket with Tooru on the couch, the brunette breathing soft puffs of breath against his neck and glasses askew from where he’d fell asleep with them on, he decided that even the bread could almost be forgiven if this was the apology he got.

 

But, a second later, he remembered that he’d have another crumbly and gross turkey sandwich for lunch together, and his nose wrinkled. It could  _ almost _ be forgiven.

  
_ Almost. _


End file.
